To Wield a Sword
by Silencer
Summary: A mission for the Commanders at X-Com
1. Contact

Hannah nervously pressed a button on her machine rifle

Hannah nervously pressed a button on her machine rifle. The empty cartridge dropped to the floor with a familiar metallic sound. A full magazine instantly replaced its position. Hannah impatiently pulled the reload nozzle to an embankment spot marked "full". A reassuring click pleased Hannah, as she relaxed slightly. She glanced at her watch.

Let's hope the others are ready, she thought. Timing was essential in this delicate operation. 

6 seconds left, she thought. Her gloved hands started shivering. For once, she felt the danger and risk that was involved in this hair-brained mission. From the corner of her eyes, men in red uniforms charged forward. She snapped out of her thoughts.

Hannah panicked. It was her turn to go! Each and everyone had an important task to fulfill. If she missed hers, the objective would not be complete! 

In attempt to make up for her mistake, Hannah left the safety of her concealed hiding spot and charged alongside with her men. The fences have already been blown up with relatively small charges. Hannah lifted the barbwire above and crawled under. 

Heavy fire from the defense turrets towers ensured that Hannah and her squad had to keep their heads down. The sky was overclouded, and the low visibility was not helping them. The distinct sounds of the Para-1470 bullet shells worried Hannah. A single shot from the weapon could mean another of her squad members down. 

"Proceed cautiously!" Hannah screamed into her inter. Her men crept closer to the building. Fear plagued her. 

I'm not supposed to be frightened, she thought. I am the squad captain. If I panic, my men will start to panic too. A bead of perspiration trickled down her cheek. She shook her head.

She knew it. Even before she had entered the building, she knew it already. Her squad didn't stand a ghost of a chance to even return fire before they get exterminated. Permanently exterminated. It would be using machine guns against tanks!

Other squad leaders have always talked about this hero. A mysterious but highly skilled fighter, who always turn up at the nick of time to rescue the squads from danger. What crap, she thought.

And I need it now, Hannah thought. After all, it would only be a couple of minutes more before she gets wiped out too. How nice, she thought. If she ever survived this mess, the first thing she would do is to find out who that mysterious person was.

"Hannah! Over here!" a soldier shouted, waving his machine rifle wildly. Hannah looked in his direction. What she saw shocked her. 

"Hannah! Get help over now!" the soldier screamed in despair, before being crushed brutally by a siege tank. His rifle dropped onto the floor. The siege tank continued in its course. Speak of the devil.

"Hannah! Get over here!" Sergeant Wilson yelled. He pulled the pin off a grenade and flunk in straight at the tank. He started running in the opposite direction. 

No, she screamed. Confusion was in abundance. Definitely not good. 

"Hannah!" 

She ignored it. Having made her mind, she focused solely on her objective.


	2. Resurrection

I need my concentration, she thought

I need my concentration, she thought. The enemies were still keeping up with their heavy firepower. 

Hannah positioned her machine rifle into firing position. She begun firing wildly into nothingness. The indicator on her machine rifle toned down dramatically before hitting a painful zero. The rifle clicked. 

Shit, she cursed. The empty cartridge slid noiselessly off the rifle. 

No ammo. She fingered her trigger in anticipation. She looked around desperately.

"Hannah! Catch!"

Hannah spun round and caught a full magazine in mid air. As if spurred by some spiritual force, Hannah reloaded her machine rifle in mid air and back flipped. Surprising even herself, she landed right between both siege tanks. With a burst shot to each of the tanks, they were no more. Hannah pressed forward. 

Bursts of flashes from her machine rifle increased. The barrel was too hot to hold, but in the heat of the battle, nothing was too hot for her. She didn't even realize it. 

"Hannah!" she stopped firing.

"Over here! Quick!" an aircrew marine shouted. Hannah cocked her rifle and broke into a sprint. The dropship was taking off soon. Without her. 

"Hannah!" Hannah frowned. She was already at her fastest. After all, it was no easy task running in army boots. The dropship was only five meters away. The Confederate Forces were giving chase.

Hannah drew her last breath, before taking a huge leap. Her right hand shot out, in attempt to catch the dropship's shutter. She landed with a thud, missing narrowly by only a finger length. 

"Hannah!" the aircrew's voice grew softer. She looked up. The dropship's rear thrusters powered up. Hannah quickly got to her feet. Fatigue and danger consumed her soul. She fell in despair, watching the dropship dim.

The stardust twirled languidly, swirling and spinning. A beautiful sight, no doubt, Hannah agreed bitterly. Just like the days back on earth, before she was chosen to join the Starship Troopers Inc. A cold organization, established to assist and takeover the priorities and duties of the X-Com Unit. The X-Com Unit specialized in securing isolated and heavily guarded areas, countering alien species' elaborated attacks. Now, the job of securing areas had to be passed on to somebody, as alien activities stepped up sharply. 

She was going to die soon. No Starship Troopers, no help, no life. How about the X-Com fighters, she freaked out. It was bound to be bullshit. She needed help, but no one was here. Her mates had left her to die. Worse of all, she was certain that the Confederate bastards would rape her first. 

Up in the comforts and safety of height, Sergeant Wilson's fist slammed the metal bench he was sitting on. How could he leave Hannah behind? Those Confederate jerks were sure to rape her, then kill her. It would be heartless to leave her to suffer, to be made use of, and to die. 

Char was almost invisible to the human eye. 

Wilson rose to his feet, and made his way to the control room.

"Turn the ship around."

The master pilot shook his head in disagreement.

"Who's in charge here?" Wilson shouted.

The pilot pointed to himself.

"Well, not anymore." Wilson jammed the Kill engines button, as the dropship fell..

The master pilot sighed, before altering the dropship's course. Wilson reactivated the engines.

The sounds of metal against metal grew closer. Hannah braced herself for the worse. 

Hannah could almost feel the insane grins coming in the direction from the Confederate bastards.

She was a beauty. Ever since high school, she knew that. Sure, she had a lot of boys chasing after her, but she would just maintain a firm and pleasant demure, refusing any boy's proposal. 

Hannah felt the cold barrel of the machine gun being pressed against her temple. She shut her eyes. So she was wrong about them raping her. 

A click from the gun tightened her eyes in fear, but no bullet came. The humiliating sounds of laughter angered her. 

"Take this one back to my quarters, bound up. Relieve her of her armor and weapons." The one with a sniper rifle spoke. Obviously the leader.

Two men walked up to her. One of them roughly grabbed her hands. Hannah jolted in fright, attempting to break free, but the other men held her strongly in his arms. 

Her armor ejected a stream of ionized oxygen gas as it was removed. A needle was injected into her left arm. She struggled, as the drug taxed her conscious state. She was dozing off. 

The sounds disintegration echoed through out the building. Fireballs were smoking up the entire place. 

"Go and diffuse the fire now!" the leader shouted. The men ran in the direction of the fireball.

"You're all toast, Confederate bastards!" a firebat screamed, as a huge stream of controlled fire burst from his chemical pack. The Confederate soldiers were backing off, as dozens of firebats flooded the area. The dark night was turning into one hell of a burning inferno. 

"Squad 1! Secure the launch pad! Squad 2! Report to Section B and hold position until further orders! Squad 3! Report to Section B8 and fortify the section! Go!" The Confederate Commander screamed. The neat rows of touch and rugged men dispersed. The Commander got off the microphone stand and walked back to his quarters.

"Go! Go! Go!" Wilson yelled. The dropship opened it's shuttle, as the same men of Squad 157 charged into the same bloody grounds, each with not only fresh ammunition, but with a fresh objective.

"Damn all Starship Troopers! They are back for us, sir!" a guard reported. The commander pursed his lips together. 

"Get all of them. Leave no one breathing." He said. Pointing his sniper rifle towards Hannah, he smiled.

"I'm sorry girl. Your time is up." He squeezed the trigger. Hannah screamed, but the bullet never reached her.

"Get up, girl. He's dead. I'll take care of the rest of the soldiers. Order your unit back to the dropship. Go!" a commander in blue armor spoke gently. Hannah nodded her head, still in shock. She got to her feet, and radioed back to Wilson.

Wilson replied a quick Ok, before the entire squad was back up in the sky again.

"What happened, Hannah?" Wilson asked. He undid the metallic buckles of his helmet piece, and set them on the same bench he was sitting on earlier. 

Hannah smiled. "I've seen him." 

"Who?" Wilson raised his eyebrows.

"The Silencer." She smiled. Wilson leaned back, until his back touched the cold metallic finish of the dropship. Outside the dropship, many Inter-Stella Wing Fighters swarmed in the opposite direction of their dropship. Within seconds, the fighters had streaked way past the dropship once more, leaving behind only smoke and ash.

Whoa, was all Wilson managed to get out of his mouth.


End file.
